Embattled SEAL (9 page)

“I think between standing up too fast, no food in your stomach and maybe shaking your head you knocked yourself off kilter.”

“Fucking ridiculous,” he snapped.

Cat started to jerk away but he grabbed her hand. “Not you,” he growled. “The situation. I’m so pissed right now.”

“You’re not used to being anything less than a hundred percent. At all. Your body isn’t letting you be in control anymore.”

As usual she was right. He could deal with the nausea and he could probably even deal with the loss of eyesight, but the loss of control pissed him off more than anything.

“Do you think you can get up?”

Without a word he rolled to his feet, forcing himself to act more secure than he actually was. Cat stayed directly in front of him, but his horizon stayed firm. Walking to the kitchen table he sank down into one of the chairs.

“How ’bout I make some breakfast?”

It wasn’t really a question because she had already started. Harper watched her putter around the unfamiliar kitchen, opening cupboard drawers to see where everything was. Then she dug in the fridge for a bit, setting ingredients on the marble island.

Harper became a little distracted watching her. This morning she wore a soft t-shirt he didn’t recognize and a pair of blue jeans he seemed to remember ripping off her a time or two. His anger faded away as he watched her lean body move. There was no wasted motion with her. It was one of the things that had drawn his eye when he first met her. She hadn’t been through the training he had, but she had a natural grace to her that was spellbinding. Cat was competent and controlled in all things, body, mind and spirit.

Even at twenty-two when he’d first met her, he knew he’d been none of those things. His body had been maturing faster than his mind. His spirit had never caught up. The most complete his spirit had ever been had been when he was living with her. All of the fucked up shit he’d grown up with had faded away. There were a couple of brief, shining moments he remembered being completely content with everything in his life. Stupid things like watching her cook him a monster dinner after being deployed for months. Real food made with loving hands after living on government supplied freeze-dried crap made by machines. Playing in the snow on a trip up north, Cat pregnant with Dillon at the time. Watching her tinker under the hood of the truck with him, grease streaked on her cheek.

Cat had been at the center of all of those.

The past year and a half had been hard. Remembering those brilliant moments had kept him moving through his monotonous life.

“I miss watching you,” he admitted.

She paused long enough to smile at him, hand propped on her hip. “And I miss feeling the weight of your gaze on me.”

Arousal hit him in a rush, causing a different kind of dizziness. That no-holds-barred responsiveness to his overtures had always cranked him up hard. The first moment he’d seen her walking into that restaurant he’d been hit with the most potent arousal he’d ever felt. And over the years as he’d grown to love her, the need had grown as well. Within just a few months they’d been inseparable. If he wasn’t on base training, he was with her. The guys in his platoon had thought he was a loner, which was fine because it tied into the sniper mentality, but he was actually just the opposite—home enjoying his wife. He just didn’t talk about that part of his life.

Psychologically, Cat had accepted him like no one else ever had. When the miserable excuse he’d had for a father had died when he was twenty-four, it had been a blip on his radar. He’d sent money for the cremation but he hadn’t even gone back to Georgia for the service. And nobody had missed him. As the child of an affair, he had never been accepted by either family. Cat had supported his decision to stay away from them all and hadn’t said a word to try to sway him otherwise. She knew the kind of abuse he’d lived through.

Because along with that calm-headedness came a knowledge of when to let him run and when to try to rein him in or guide him. Harper knew she played him, but it was all done with their best interests at heart. And she usually manipulated him into doing what he’d wanted to begin with, just hadn’t wanted to admit.

Watching her move around the kitchen, he wondered if this was one of those times. Actually, he realized, there were two items he needed to be thinking about. One, was she swaying around the kitchen that way to take his mind off everything else? And two, had she rented this house and arranged this time for them to reconnect because she knew they belonged together, in spite of his issues?

The thought that he might have been wrong for the past year and a half and tortured them both for no reason made his head ache. Hell…

Propping his throbbing head on his hands, he probed at the cuts around his bad eye. Puckered and tender. There were some stitches he’d have to get pulled later. The rest of his head thumped.

“They said that you would be in for some monster headaches.”

He slitted his eyes enough to see her set a fresh cup of coffee in front of him and a white pill. Not ibuprofen. “I don’t want to be knocked out anymore.”

“I know, but if you don’t have to have the pain, why not take it? The house is secure. And so are we. We’ll get you some breakfast and you can crash.”

“Are you going to tuck me in?”

She laughed and paused long enough to toss a grin at him. “Maybe. Although I don’t think that would do your headache any good.”

“No, but it would take care of the other ache I’ve got.”

Cat gave him a sharp glance, then slowly moved back to the stove. Harper could see the effect he’d had on her though. Those ever-responsive nipples of hers were rock hard. He could see them even through the fabric of her bra and shirt.

And of course, her arousal sharpened his. Daring total destruction, he stood and crossed the room. Amazingly, his head and his feet held steady. Cat looked up when he stopped beside her, but he didn’t give her a chance to say anything. Cupping her head in his hands, he pulled her mouth to his.

God…All of the hardships of the past year and a half—hell, the past week—faded away as her lips softened beneath his. Cat accepted his assault like she’d expected it, hoped for it even.

Harper groaned and inhaled her scent, nostalgia stirring as much as the arousal. Their movements were a little awkward at first, but he refused to let that discourage him. Angling his head he requested entrance to the depths of her mouth.

Cat’s fists curled into the fabric of his t-shirt and her lips parted, allowing him in. Harper rocked his mouth into hers, nibbling her lush, sweet skin. One hand slid down to hold her arm at the elbow.

The nice thing about Cat was that he didn’t have to bend in half to kiss her. At six foot five that really meant a lot. She was a tall woman, lean almost to the point of skinny. But she had curves in all the right places. Harper let his hands drift down her waist and they ended up cupping her ass.

They both paused as he squeezed and he knew she was wondering if he would pick her up like he used to. Pulling her tight, he tested the pain in his chest. Manageable. Probably wouldn’t hurt too bad.

“Don’t.”

Damn, she was a freaking mind reader. Smiling against her mouth, he pulled away to grab a breath. “You were remembering too, weren’t you?”

The wash of color under her pale cheeks and her dilated pupils spoke volumes. “Hard not to. You used to haul my ass everywhere.”

Harper grinned, remembering. Hell, he used to have her hop on his back for him to train with, her weight and balance perfect.

Before he could lean in again she pulled away and crossed back to the sink. “I think it’s a little early to get physical. You’re still healing.”

“Fuck that. We’ve made love when I was worse off before. Seems like I remember a visit late at night at Walter Reed.”

Her cheeks pinkened before she turned away. “That was different.”

Chuckling, he decided to let her have her freedom. She could stew on her arousal; then the next time he approached her she would be more receptive. There were some things he needed to do anyway. With a final regretful glance he left the kitchen and walked to the small office he’d found, dropping into the leather office chair. The living room was more comfortable but it had a huge expanse of windows looking out over the landscape. Way too bright.

Duncan didn’t answer his cell phone, which was probably smart. Harper had some words for him that wouldn’t be particularly nice. His boss had sold him out without a word of warning. Although was being with Cat actually a hardship?

Chad picked up on the first ring. “Hey, Harper! How’s it hanging, buddy?”

Snorting in spite of himself, he swung around to the desk. “Surprisingly well, Lowell. I would have appreciated a heads up, though.”

Chad laughed on the other end of the line. “About what? Oh, the kidnapping? She was doing exactly what we’ve wanted to do for a long time. She just managed to do it with a little more ease. You’ve needed a break for a while, dude. When’s the last time you took a day of vacation?”

He never had. They both knew that.

“Cat made a good case for your abduction and we agreed with her reasoning. I think you guys need to work on some personal stuff anyway.” A wrapper crinkled on the other end of the line as Lowell put something in his mouth. “Mercy said to tell you hi next time I talked to you and that she thanks you for sending her bear back.”

Damn. Cat must have done that too. She’d been a busy woman the last couple of days.

“Tell her I appreciated the loan.”

“I will. Enjoy yourself, buddy. The company can run without you for a while. Get your marriage in order. A few months ago I wouldn’t have understood how important that is, but I do now. If she’s the one for you you need to invest time in her.”

Harper knew he was right; it was just hard taking a step back. Daring to go out on a limb, he cleared his throat. “I left because of the anxiety and the paranoia. I thought I was going to hurt someone.”

Silence stretched for several seconds. “But if you leave the good because you’re worried about the bad, the bad wins, right? You have a better chance of getting right in the head if you have the right foundation at home.”

Harper sighed. Though he had a few years on his boss age-wise the guy had the right of it. “Yeah, I know what you’re saying is sound—it’s just hard. The worries are persistent.”

“I know, but I also know you’re more persistent. You’re a damn bull. You need to find a way to keep your family together.”

There was work to be done. Harper hung up feeling more secure in himself and his situation.

They needed to work on their marriage. Cat was completely right about that. And maybe he just had to have the faith in them to commit to it.

Next he made a quick call to Gunny.

“Mr. Preston. How the fuck are you?”

Harper smirked at the greeting. “Fine, Palmer. But I’m feeling a little exposed. Think you can send me some things?”

Within a few minutes he had the security of the house mapped out and John promised to overnight him a box of equipment. If he was going to stay here for two weeks he needed to feel more secure.

Cat braced herself
against the counter and dragged in a heavy breath. The man was so damn sexy. He didn’t even have to try very hard to point out how hard up she was. It had been a year and a half since he’d left and she’d felt every day of it.

Even beat up and bruised he appealed to her. Maybe even more so because she wanted to mother him.

The man didn’t need a mother though. He needed a wife with direction. And she was definitely that person. Cat was bound and determined to drag him home. Even if home needed to be in Colorado with his new job, she didn’t care as long as they were all together. She could do web design anywhere as long as she had her computer. And the kids would do just about anything to see him and be with him again.

Dillon worried her. So impressionable right now, she had truly been daddy’s girl. Cat knew that her daughter had taken on part of the guilt of her father leaving, and it couldn’t continue. She had too many other things she needed to be thinking about—boys and grades and what position she wanted to play in softball. The worry in her young, stormy grey eyes so like her father’s had aged her. They’d aged Cat as well because she felt helpless to eradicate those worries.

As for Tate…well, he kept bouncing along. But he had been asking about his father less and less. That brought the tears at night. In the depths of the silence of the house when no one needed her she let herself cry. That was the only time she allowed herself to weaken.

Turning back to the stove she stirred the eggs.